


Back From The Dead

by SkyeBlue21



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeBlue21/pseuds/SkyeBlue21
Summary: You thought Bucky had died on a Hydra mission with Steve. How do you handle him coming back from the dead?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Back From The Dead

**Author's Note:**

> This might be a two part story, If it gets enough traction. I have not posted in a really long time, so hopefully it isn't too rusty. Constructive criticism is appreciated, any bullying is not accepted. Thank you!!
> 
> I don't own Marvel, or the song by Skylar Grey, I just really like the song and felt i could write a story based off of it. I used some lyrics but not the full song.

I sat at the kitchen island in the Avengers compound, listening to Sam and Scott argue over actors and their best movies. 

“What do you think, y/n?” Scott suddenly asked me. I shaked my head, clearing my thoughts. Glancing up at him, I quirk an eyebrow. 

“Think of what?” I ask. Sam just shakes his head in disappointment. 

“You’re distracted again” Sam commented. I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my coffee that was now getting cold. Had I been thinking for that long?

“It’s a rough day for me Sam” was the only explanation I would offer to him. He turned around, noticing that today was the 23rd. The day my best friend died. 

The 23rd of June was the day James Buchanan Barnes had passed away. Today was the one year mark, and I had done remarkably well. I got a promotion, I was second in command next to Steve, I was the godmother of Morgan, and I even got my own office. 

“I’m sorry” Sam whispered. I gave him a small smile. I knew that he missed Bucky, and forgetting wasn’t personal. A lot of people pushed Bucky in the back of their mind. We were still recovering from the Civil War, while a lot of trust had been regained, there were still some tender moments. 

“y/n, you ready?” Steve asked, dangling his car keys in his hand. I downed the last bit of my coffee, nodding. I rinsed out my cup, loading it in the dishwasher and smoothed out my dress. 

I squeezed Sam’s hand in passing, giving him a small smile. I followed Steve silently to the car. Once in and buckled, I leaned my head against the window, the rain launching my brain into a flashback. 

**I held the funeral the day you left,**

**A black umbrella and a sad song in my head,**

**Buried your pictures that I loved the most,**

_ I was sitting in the living room when Steve walked in, still in his Captain’s gear. I looked up and tilted my head.  _

_ “Everything okay, Steve?” I asked. He slowly shook his head no and that’s when he told me. Bucky had been killed doing a recon mission. Steve explained that he would rather be dead than have Hydra have control of him once more.  _

_ Steve had caught me as I fell to the floor. The love of my life had disappeared, was gone just like that. His last words echoing in my head.  _

_ “I love you Doll, forever and always”  _

_ Steve says there was not a body, but they would hold a service for him anyway, and his headstone would be placed next to his mothers and sisters in Brooklyn.  _

_ With Steve’s help, we organized a really nice funeral. It was raining, and I was the last one standing at his headstone. I had laid a photo album at it, all of our favorite memories. I couldn’t keep them with me anymore. I hadn’t slept in days, and this was the first step to recovery. (or so I read) _

“y/n” Steve’s voice shook me from the memory. He handed me an umbrella and I followed him to the headstone, taking more time than usual. I wouldn’t cry today. Today marks one year, I am stronger now. 

“Where’s the book?” I asked, the first thing I noticed missing. I looked up at Steve who was looking down at the ground. “Where is the book Steve?” My voice raises an octave. I heard a throat clear behind us. 

I turned around, the last thing I expected to see was Bucky. His hair tied back in a half bun, his once silver arm, now a shiny black. 

“y/n!” was the last thing I heard before everything went black. When I woke up, I was in the living room at the compound, with Bucky and Steve standing in front of me. Bucky and Steve both had matching looks of guilt on their face. 

**I never thought that you and I would ever meet again,**

**I mourn the loss of you sometimes and pray for peace within,**

**The word "distraught" cannot describe how my heart has been,**

**But where do we begin now that you're back from the dead?**

“Somebody, anybody, better explain to me why there is a ghost in the living room, can I see dead people now?” I asked, Steve winced at how eerily calm I was. 

“You are not seeing a ghost,” Bucky whispered. I whipped my head to him and stood up. The calm left my body in one motion. 

“You are supposed to be dead!” I yelled at him. Jabbing my finger into his chest. “How the hell are you back from the dead?” I screamed, my voice raising. I felt someone touch my arm. 

I whirled to Steve, slapping him. “There was no body, because he wasn’t dead!” I screamed at Steve. “Where was he Steve?” Steve rubbed his cheek, a nice red handprint forming. 

“Wakanda” was the only explanation I got from him. I turned on my heel, stomping into the attached kitchen. I grabbed a coffee cup, noticing how my hands were shaking. I took a deep breath. 

“y/n” I heard Bucky’s voice behind me. Without thinking, I slammed the cup on the counter, shattering it on the impact. I refused to look at him. 

**I'm so confused I don't know what to feel,**

**Should I throw my arms around you or kill you for real?**

**'Cause I worked so hard to put the past to rest,**

**Now it's tumbling down on me just like an avalanche,**

**So you can't just come back now like a demon uninvited,**

**No you can't just expect me to open my door to you**

I felt movement behind me, and him touch my arm. I closed my eyes. I took another deep breath before turning back to him, noticing the rest of the team standing in the living room, some with wide eyes and shocked expressions, some that looked guilty. 

“Do not touch me” He retracted his flesh hand like he had been burned. “I don’t know what you want from me Bucky. You were dead, I mourned you, I sat by your grave every sunday and read to it. I’ve missed you like hell, i’ve prayed for you to come back.” I wiped my eyes. 

“Doll” I held up my hand to stop him from talking. 

“It’s y/n to you.” He swallowed hard and took a step back from me. “This” I gestured between me and him, “is going to take time, and a lot of recovery” I stepped around him and went straight for my room. 

I curled on my bed and cried, not wanting to admit that he was here, he was alive, and he was apparently well. Natasha and Wanda checked on me a few times, both swearing they had no clue. Wanda was easy to read, Natasha was harder on purpose. 

Weeks turned into months, and I still had not uttered a word to Bucky. It was easier to pretend that he didn’t exist again than to face the fact that he was alive and well. 

I dodged every mission that he went on, I put in papers to be office only, I could use my hacking asset from the base, and was not required to go on missions in the field anymore. 

I missed movie nights, game nights, drinking nights. I dodged every group activity until I couldn’t take it anymore. 

I submitted my papers to retire as an Agent/Avenger. I was granted almost immediately, the agency thanking me for my service and providing me with a hefty retirement package, that should last me until my last days on this earth. 

I left without a word, I bought a small acre of land in Virginia, and began to get my life back. 

I was at the farmers market one saturday, selling plums when I heard the voice that had haunted me for years. 

“y/n” I looked up and into the blue eyes of Bucky Barnes. 

“Yes?” I replied. His eyes widened slightly in surprise. 

“Can we talk?” 

**I never thought that you and I would ever meet again,**

**I mourn the loss of you sometimes and pray for peace within,**

**The word "distraught" cannot describe how my heart has been,**

**But where do we begin now that you're back from the dead?**

**Where do we begin now that you're back from the dead?**

**Where do we begin now that you're back from the dead?**


End file.
